The Recording
by thebrokencradle
Summary: A video concerning a certain scientist comandeers the Ark's computer system for a spell, changing many of the opinions concerning Perceptor. A Whodunit story in which the opinion of the reader is welcome! WARNINGS INSIDE. MATURE.
1. Chapter 1

AN: There are just some things that should never grace the internet but happen to be found on there anyway. This fic is one of those things. THIS IS A MATURE FIC CONTAINING MASTURBATION OF THE GAY SORT, DILDOS, VIBRATORS AND HEAVY VOUYERISM. IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THEN DO NOT READ THEN BITCH TO ME ABOUT IT.

_**IF YOU UNDERSTAND AND ACCEPT THESE WARNINGS YOU MAY READ THIS FIC AT YOUR OWN RISK**_

_**The Recording**_

Every screen on the Ark flickered for a moment and static broke out like a freak storm before clearing to show a small, flushed mech lying on a berth, legs spread wide and most of his outer armor gone. Between his legs was an enormous looking artificial spike that had to be about as long and thick as the small mech's forearm. The young mech looked absolutely wasted, lying on the berth, fingers lightly delving into his valve as his spike slowly extended. There was a small control strapped to his thigh with a thin wire running down to a small rounded tip that couldn't have been larger than the tip of the mech's finger.

"Hey, Percy… Say hi to the camera…" A vocoded voice from off camera called and the young mech's helm lolled to the side, smiling at the lens.

"Hi…" He breathed, his fingers never leaving his valve. His hips were lightly undulating and he hummed as he slid a hand up his spike and along his abdomen to knead the thin protoform on his chest.

"So, Percy, you think you can take that spike in you?"

Perceptor nodded and smiled shyly, looking away for a moment.

"That's a pretty big spike… Let's see if it could fit." The camera shifted positions and zoomed in, Perceptor obligingly spread his legs, removing his fingers as the camera focused on his port. It was blissfully small and wet, clenched tight and leaking lubricants onto the berth beneath.

"I don't know, Percy…"

Perceptor merely hummed and returned to fingering himself, the camera moving back out as Perceptor's port began to leak. He purred happily and tilted his head back, exposing a tantalizing expanse of protoform as he shifted his hips, propping his legs open and reaching for the tip of the small device strapped to his thigh. He rubbed the small thing against his port edges, getting it wet with his own fluids before gently pushing it inside. He then moved to the small control at his thigh and flicked a switch, his hips arching slightly when a small hum started up.

"Uhn! Mnn…" Perceptor shakily laid back, staring at the camera absently as it zoomed in on the quivering tubing of his valve as it clenched and vibrated around the small gadget.

"Does that feel good, Percy?" Perceptor managed a nod and a breathless sound of pleasure as he reached for the artificial spike between his thighs.

Dainty hands felt up and down the large spike before lifting it and rubbing it against the lubricating valve, tiny fingers parting the edges of the valve for a moment – offering a tantalizing view of tight, soft looking walls inside – before thrusting the tip of the spike inside alongside the thin wire of the vibrator.

A soft sound of discomfort as the swollen head of the spike was pressed in, a slick, wet sound of suction and a gush of lubricant following quickly. Perceptor lay on his back, forcing another inch or so of the toy into him before he fell limp for a moment, lower regions still clenched and barely rocking as the small mech whimpered and gasped, licking his fingers before reaching down and pressing a finger into his port, working the digit in and out while the spike remained still.

"You like that, Percy?"

"Mmmhm!" Perceptor whined and reached down, carefully pressing the spike into him, managing to get half of the monstrous thing inside of him before he had to stop again. The small mech sighed and rubbed light circles along his chest, resting for a few moments before he reached down and slowly worked the spike inside of his port.

Perceptor moaned and flopped back onto the berth, hands limp at the sides of his head as he laid still for a moment, venting softly.

"You okay, Percy?"

"Mmmhnn…" Perceptor whimpered, reaching down and slowly pulling the spike out until the bulge at the tip stretched the rim of his spike. The camera zoomed in on the tight pull of soft tubing as the spike was reinserted, slowly and languidly, Perceptor letting out soft gasps and whimpers each time another inch was added.

Finally the entire thing was inside of him and Perceptor arched as he lay on the berth, stretching his legs slightly as each shift and movement caused his full port to throb and send jolts of pleasure through him.

"Look at that… Now that is hot…" The disembodied voice murmured, the camera zooming in on Perceptor's body, trailing over it admiringly. Perceptor sighed and began massaging his abdomen and the camera paused, following the fingers as they skittered down to the young mech's spike.

"Mm…" Perceptor stroked his spike for a few moments, fondling the head and the slit before moving back to his port, pulling the large object inside of him out slowly with a slick, wet sucking sound. No sooner had he gotten to the tip of the toy did he thrust it back in, sing that same slow, maddening pace.

Perceptor quickly adjusted to the intrusions, thrusting his hips as he sped up the slow drag and push of the toy. His port easily swallowed the monstrous object and the camera would often zoom in on the stretched tight tubing of the soft valve.

Perceptor barely made any sound except for the occasional gasp and whimper. Soft screams of pleasure suddenly began to come forth from full, soft lips and Perceptor whimpered as he rolled onto his servos and knees, bearing down quickly onto the thick insertion that was currently embedded inside of him.

"Look over here, Percy…" The person holding the camera ordered as Perceptor rode the spike, the young mech lolling his head over his shoulder strutlessly to gaze absently at the camera, optics glazed and lips parted in a picture of pornographic pleasure as increasingly loud gasps and choked off sobs of ecstasy escaped him.

"Yeah… That's it, Percy…" Perceptor whimpered as he stopped thrusting in exchange for rocking his hips jerkily, bracing his hands behind him as he threw his head back. Venting gasps and whimpers of pleasure, Perceptor spread his legs even further, clenching the cables in his lower regions to tighten his port even more around the deliciously torturous intrusion.

Overload brought Perceptor's hands to his helm, the young mech clutching the back of his helm as he rode out the sensations. Thick silvery fluid gushing from his spike and his port, coating his body completely, the young mech fell onto his back. Head hanging off the edge of the berth along with his arms, legs arched and splayed wide to display his debauchery, Perceptor regained his lost vents slowly.

"Come on, Percy, show the camera your port." Perceptor made a low sound as he rolled onto his side then front, turning so that his back was to the camera, leaning down on his elbows and spreading his legs to reveal his port. Transfluid coated the young mech's thighs, even more still gushing out from the tight opening, the ripple and clench of tubing easily visible from this new angle.

Perceptor sighed and swiped a hand over his inner thigh, licking the gathered Transfluid and lubricant off of his fingers as he moved to lay on his back, legs spread and arms stretched over his head.

"Alright, Percy, say bye to the camera…"

Perceptor puckered his lips slightly, blowing a quick kiss before whispering a soft "bye-bye".

The screens cut out before returning to perfectly normal functioning, though what had been previously viewed was completely forgotten in lieu of the images now plaguing the mind of every mech on the Ark.

After a few moments of silence within the crowded Ark Rec. Room there was the soft whoosh of the door opening. Every mech turned to see Perceptor striding in, his nose stuck in a datapad as he nibbled on the end of a stylus, walking over to the energon dispenser to gather up his morning ration. He didn't seem to notice the stares that followed his every movement, nor the seemingly thunderous roar of cooling vents as mechs recalled the video that had just been displayed, starring the young scientist himself.

Things about the young mech that none of his comrades had noticed before suddenly revealed themselves: The gentle yet undeniably appealing sway of black hips. The dip and curve of Perceptor's back and aft. The way he stood with a slight cock and thrust of his hips. The way his lips parted ever so slightly when he was thinking deeply.

After Perceptor had left the Rec. Room, completely oblivious to the havoc he had just wreaked, Jazz turned and looked around.

"Now if'n y'all ain't gunna tap dat aft den y'all are de biggest group o' idiots Ah've ever known." He stated bluntly.

The room returned to its previous level of activity after a few moments, but one could always tell when one of the mechs began thinking about Perceptor and the interesting little video that they had all been hacked with…


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Recording**_

Perceptor bent over to peer at a strange golden liquid leaking from a pine tree, curiously touching it as he did so.

"Oh!" He smiled at the sticky substace, rubbing it between his fingers lightly. "This planet is so fascinating, wouldn't you agree?" He asked over his shoulder. Hound was leaning against a nearby rock, his chin propped up on his hand as he stared lazily at Perceptor's aft.

"Yup… Fascinatin'…" He mumbled, perking up when Perceptor sniffed his hand, curiously licking the sap from between his fingers. Hound felt his vents click on and his spike beginning to twitch behind its cover, his optics zooming in on that small, pale glossa flicking against long, slender fingers. "So, um, Perceptor… How's life been treatin' you?" Hound asked in an attempt to distract himself.

"Quite well, actually, thank you for asking." Perceptor reached into his subspace and scraped a sample off of the tree, placing it in a small test tube before replacing the tube into his subspace, a hand resting on his hip momentarily before he returned to gathering samples. He strode over to a small creek and peered into the water, gasping happily at the sight of small salmon eggs.

"Oh, Hound, look at this!" He bent over at the waist, pert aft in the air and Hound stood, walking over carefully as Perceptor began to babble on. He couldn't resist the urge and as he bent forward he pressed his groin to Perceptor's aft lightly, bending over so that his face was at the crook of Perceptor's shoulder and neck.

Perceptor stiffened and sat bolt upright, turning around with wide optics.

"Hound! What were you-" Perceptor glanced down and blushed furiously, energon flushing his cheeks bright pink as he a thin trail of lubricant leaking from the seams of Hound's panel. "H-hound?"

The larger mech let out a low growl, pressing forward and pinning Perceptor to a tree trunk, pressing his nose to the younger mech's neck.

"H-hound! Stop this! I-I'm underaged!" Perceptor squeaked and arched, blushing as he tried to force the other mech away as Hound groped his aft firmly.

"Come on, Percy, how can I resist you?" Hound growled in a soft audial, licking the fine metal as he inhaled Perceptor's scent. He smelled sweet and warm, like mercury and hot oil, and the mech could practically taste the lubricants within the younger mech's body.

"Please, Hound, stop!" Perceptor shoved the larger mech away and raced away, leaving a stunned Hound behind.

Hound blinked, the lustful haze of his optics gone as he realized what he had done.

"Damnit!" He whispered to himself, banging a fist against his forehead before turning to run after Perceptor. "Percy, wait!" He called, racing after the smaller mech, keeping track of his scent as he stumbled after the more agile mech.

Perceptor ran, stopping within the shade of a large tree, slumping at the base and covering his face shamefully.

What had brought on such behavior? Hound had never showed any interest in him before. As far as he knew he and Hound were just good friends, nothing more.

And he certainly had done nothing to warrant such strange behavior in his lifecycle.

There was a thud nearby and Perceptor jumped, looking up and around to see who had made the noise, terrified that it might be Hound.

"Perceptor?" Perceptor whimpered and pulled his legs close to his chest, looking away as Hound found him. "Perceptor, damnit, I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me."

"Just… Take me back to the ark, Hound." Perceptor whispered, standing up and holding himself tightly.

"Perceptor, I'm sorry." Hound looked at the smaller mech pleadingly, but Perceptor merely looked away, holding himself even tighter.

PWP

Perceptor shivered as he sat in his lab, trying to focus on his latest experiment. However, his mind kept wandering to Hound's earlier actions. They just didn't make sense. Why was the scout so interested in him all of a sudden?

Perceptor sighed. He knew he was attractive. Not startlingly so like Tracks or the twins – or even Prowl, Bluestreak and Smokescreen – but he was… cute… maybe… But none of the other mechs had ever seemed to take interest in him. He was, after all, simply Perceptor. A smart mech who helped out where he could, rarely went into battle and locked himself away most of the time. Most mechs rarely saw him, much less observed him regularly… And nobody knew about his past life…

"Perceptor?" Perceptor jumped at his name being called and looked over at the comm. Link, jumping up and racing over when he saw it was Prime.

"Yes, sir?"

"I need to speak with you in my office." Perceptor felt his spark pounding. Had he done something wrong? He didn't think he had…

"Yes, sir." Perceptor nodded, cutting off the comm. Link and striding out of his lab and into the hall, avoiding any mechs on his way to Optimus Prime's office.

When he got to the door he gave a timid knock.

"Come in." The door swooshed open softly and Perceptor stepped through. Inside were Prime, Prowl and Red Alert, all three looking concerned and slightly upset. "Have a seat." Prime gestured to the chair in front of his desk and Perceptor gingerly sat down, looking at his hands silently.

There were a few moments of silence before Prime spoke.

"Perceptor, do you know why you are here?"

"No, sir." Perceptor whispered, glancing up at his commander. Optimus nodded understandingly before looking down at a report in his hands.

"Perceptor… There have been some… whispers… about the Ark and some of them are quite disturbing… Now we wouldn't be so concerned about them if it weren't for the events of last week…"

"What events?" Perceptor asked, frowning. "And why are you talking to me about this?" He looked at the three mechs before locking his gaze with Optimus'.

The older mech looked away awkwardly, clearing his vocals with a cough of static before turning his gaze back.

"Perceptor… You are aware that last week someone hacked into Teletraan-1 and displayed a pornographic video of you."

Perceptor's mouth dropped open and he stood.

"W-what? What in the name of Vector Sigma are you talking about?" His voice had gone up a notch and he looked outraged. "Is this some sort of sick joke?"

"Quite possibly." Red Alert murmured, tapping something on the datapad he held and holding the pad out to Perceptor. The young mech stared for a few seconds as the video played on the pad before he slapped the pad face down on the desk, a look of disgust on his faceplates.

"Was that you, Perceptor?"

"I don't know…" Perceptor murmured, covering his mouth with a servo. "I don't recall ever doing something like that…"

"You seemed highly inebriated on the tape, Perceptor… Perhaps that had something to do with it?" Prowl asked as he placed a calming hand on Perceptor's shoulder.

"Perhaps, my memory chips tend to glitch whenever I drink high grade, but I don't do it often and I've only drunk a handful of times since arriving on Earth." Perceptor covered his face with a hand. "That at least explains Hound attempting an advance on me…" He murmured to himself, not realizing he had spoken aloud.

"Hound attempted an advance?" Optimus asked, surprised. Perceptor nodded shyly.

"I told him no… But I couldn't understand why…" Perceptor made a helpless gesture with his hands, sighing heavily.

"Perceptor, that was sexual assault, you have every right to report Hound." Prowl stated firmly.

"No, I don't want to report anyone… I just want to know how the pit this happened!" Perceptor sighed and rubbed his optics.

"Calm down Perceptor, this will probably be resolved soon." Prime stood and patted Perceptor on the shoulder. "For now, just go back to your lab and rest up for a bit, I think it would be wise if you avoided being seen until we can figure out who is behind this."

PWP

It was a general rule of thumb, that anything that one side saw on screen, the opposing faction saw as well. Now there were some cameras and screens that had yet to be hacked into (Such as the Washracks, Commanding Offices, the Medibay and Labs) but the majority of the cameras were rigged on both bases. So when Perceptor's One-Hit-Wonder porno was displayed throughout the Autobot base, the entire Decepticon base got an optic-full as well.

Megatron had been furious and had quickly demanded who had plastered Autobot porn across the security feeds. None had come forth, Starscream was blamed and beaten and the entire cycle had continued normally after that.

"So… You wonder who got that video up?"

"Wouldn't surprise me if one of Soundwave's brats posted it as a sick joke."

"But dude, it came from the Autobrat base!"

"Your point is?"

"That had to be an Autobot recording the whole thing!"

"You never know, maybe one of us had some fun when we had him prisoner?"

"I still think it's an Autobot."

"Don't over think yourself again…"

"Hardy-har-har."


	3. Chapter 3

The Recording 3

"Hey, Percy?" Perceptor sighed at the knock, standing up and opening his Lab door. Tracks was standing in the doorway and Perceptor glared at him.

"I'm not interested in interfacing." He stated, just about to close the door when Tracks placed his foot in the doorjam.

"I'm not either, I just wanted to see if you were okay." Tracks smiled down at the smaller mech. "And I know you haven't refueled, so I brought this." Tracks subspaced an energon cube, holding it out to the younger mech. Perceptor paused, eyeing the other mech up before sighing and letting him in, walking back to his work-table and beginning to rewired a cleaning drone once more.

Tracks looked around the lab. It must have been spacious but so many projects, parts, specimens, blueprints and notes littered it that it looked smaller. Not in a cramped way, but slightly cozy… The walls were the usual obnoxious orange but it seemed duller, muted in the dim lighting, not nearly as optic-burning as the rest of the Ark.

"So how have you been holding up?" Tracks asked as he leaned against a nearby workbench, watching Perceptor work.

"As well as I can, I suppose… I've just been getting so many propositions that the next mech to ask might just find his spike shoved up his own port." Perceptor made a frustrated sound as a wire sparked brightly, burning his fingertip. "Frag!" He pulled his hand away and sucked on the finger.

"Are you alright?" Tracks asked, coming over and reaching for Perceptor's hand.

"I'm fine!" Perceptor snapped and Tracks pulled away, looking slightly hurt. Perceptor froze, blinking in surprise at his own behavior before he sighed and shook his head. "I'm sorry… I'm just so frustrated…" Perceptor slumped and rubbed his optics.

"I would be too if that had happened to me." Tracks smiled and pulled Perceptor into a hug. Perceptor stiffening in his arms.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because everyone else is out to get you in bed… I think you might just need a friend right now." Tracks smiled and Perceptor frowned before looking away.

"For all I know you could have put up that nasty video." He murmured and Tracks laughed.

"Perceptor, I can't even work Teletraan-1 to get him to do a simple scan, much less anything else!" Tracks smiled down at him before his gaze turned serious. "But when I do find whoever put that video up then they will answer to the business end of my blaster."

Perceptor looked up at the other mech in shock.

"Y-you'd do that for me?"

"Of course." Tracks smiled and Perceptor felt his spark leap into his throat. "I think you're a friend, Perceptor, and even if you don't want me to be a friend I'll watch your back."

Perceptor blushed and looked down, smiling slightly before looking up again.

"You're actually quite nice…" Tracks grinned and winked an optic at him.

"Just don't go telling everyone, I have an image to keep up." Tracks turned to leave, but Perceptor put his hand on the taller mech's arm.

"Tracks-"

"Yes?" Perceptor froze, realizing their lips were inches apart as he stared up at the other mech. He blushed and looked away for a moment before pecking the older mech on the cheek.

"Thank you." He murmured, pulling away from a stunned looking Tracks. Tracks gave a lop-sided smile, a small wave and quickly left the room, leaving an equally embarrassed Perceptor behind.

He glanced down at the energon cube and leaned over, picking it up carefully before beginning to drink, pouting as he wondered if Tracks would come back to visit soon…

Upon thinking that thought Perceptor immediately straightened and shook his helm.

No. He did not need to be thinking these thoughts, especially about Tracks. Tracks was a well-known play-mech and he had never really shown any interest in Perceptor before so why would he care now all of a sudden?

Still… A small part of Perceptor's processor wanted to believe that Tracks really did care… But that was ridiculous. Perceptor shook those thoughts away, returning to working on the cleaning drone.

PWP

"So… Um… Red?"

"Yes, Inferno?"

"Why are we doing this again?"

"Because, Inferno, we need to see if there are any clues that can lead us to the culprit that soiled Perceptor's good name."

"Uh-huh… And we have to watch the porno to do that?"

"Yes."

Inferno was silent as the mystery camera holder murmured something and zoomed in on Perceptor's port. This had been going on for hours. The firetruck really had no idea how he had gotten roped into this job, when there were several other mechs who would kill to be sitting with Red Alert, in a dark room, watching nothing but a porn video for several hours in a row.

Then again, when Inferno had opened his panel to relieve himself Red had sent him a nasty glare and he had immediately put it away, shamefully avoiding Red Alert's optics for a good two hours after.

"That's a high quality camera… Very hard to come by." Red Alert murmured, jotting down the note on a datapad, searching the area around Perceptor when the camera zoomed out. "Pretty big berth too… But still military issue…"

"Red…" Inferno whined slightly, looking down at his panel where his spike was making a slight bulge in it the shaft was so hard. "Can I take a break?"

Red Alert glanced down at the mech's pelvis, noting the bulge, before covering his optics and sighing.

"Go ahead…" Inferno scrambled to his pedes and turned to leave, Red shouting after his retreating form. "But only for fifteen minutes! And bring me back energon!" The door closed and Red Alert sighed and turned back to the screen, grimacing as he paused the video. He glanced at the datapad he was reading and frowned at the information.

Whoever it was who had done this, they were good… Not a trace of a hack, not even a string of bad code… so the perpetrator had to be an Autobot… Even Soundwave's cassettes left a trail. Whoever it was who had posted the video had access. Not high access, obviously, but access enough that they could use Teletraan whenever they pleased for minor things, such as looking around the human internet or going through old Cybertronian entertainment files…

Wait… Perceptor paused at this, raising an optic ridge. Maybe… Perceptor had seemed like he had something to hide when he had spoken with Optimus, Prowl and himself… Perhaps there was something to be found.

"Teletraan-1, call up all entertainment vids with the keywords "Perceptor" in them."

Teletraan did nothing and Red Alert frowned.

"Teletraan-1?"

All of the screens flickered and shut down for a second, dissolving into static before they flickered back on, revealing a dimly lit berth-room with an inebriated Perceptor sprawled on the floor.

"Red?" Inferno's voice called over Red Alert's internal comm.. Red pressed his helm to answer the comm..

"Yes?"

"I think we have more evidence for you to look over."


	4. Chapter 4

The Recording 4

"Hey, Percy, how you feeling?" The same vocoded voice asked and Perceptor groaned as he stretched and spread his legs.

"Fucking horny…" Perceptor murmured, looking at the camera holder with a soft smirk. "Wanna play?"

"Rather watch." Perceptor looked slightly disappointed but moved onto the bed, looking at the strange object that decorated it. There was a string of what looked to be six rubber balls, each one at least twice the size of Perceptor's small fists, with a ring on one end, a few inches above the last ball. The young mech shook one and made a humming sound of pleasure.

"Think you could take the whole thing, baby?" The voice asked and Perceptor hummed in a noncommittal way as he laid back, spreading his legs and holding the toy to his mouth. He licked along the thick skin of the first ball, one hand moving between his legs to press into his port, already moist and dripping with lubricant.

The camera zoomed in on the port for a moment before zooming out as Perceptor began to rub the first ball against his port, groaning and tilting his helm back as he lightly began undulating his hips against the ball.

Perceptor spread his tight port, rubbing the ball against the tight entrance before carefully beginning to push the ball inside.

"Ah! Hah… Mm…" Perceptor's hips quivered and twitched as he flopped back, trying to brace his legs on the berth and failing as he huffed and panted, trying to keep his hips off the berth.

"You alright, Percy?"

"Nn… Uhn!" Perceptor grasped the top of the berth, nearly screaming when one of his pedes slipped and it caused his legs to spread wider, clenching his port tightly.

"Relax, Percy… Come on, think you can put another?"

Perceptor nodded and panted, his lower regions pulsing as he reached for another ball on the string. He pressed the second ball to his entrance, groaning as he rubbed the hypersensitive nodes. He slowly pressed the ball in, gasping and groaning loudly as he arched his hips and back harshly.

When the second ball was added Perceptor had to recover once more, his lips parted and trembling as reedy moans and cries of pleasure escaped him at every movement. He groaned and slowly moved to his elbows and knees, reaching between his legs to grab another dangling ball, whimpering and keening as he forced it in.

"Nngah! Uuuhnn…" Perceptor's back bowed violently and it was hard to tell if he was in pain or pleasure as his face twisted and his body trembled.

"You want more, Percy?" The young bot nodded and whimpered, his port throbbing and clenching upon every movement as Perceptor thrust another ball inside roughly, tiny hands pressing the heel of a palm upon the opening to keep the large balls inside.

"Good bot…" The disembodied voice murmured and Perceptor looked over his shoulder, whimpering and trying to form coherent words. "What's that, Percy?"

"M-more… Oooh!" Perceptor whimpered and began rocking his hips, his body trembling as he reached for another ball.

"Fuck… That's hot, Percy…" The young mech whimpered and rolled onto his back, gasping and arching when his aft made contact with the berth. His body shook and Perceptor clenched his fists on his helm crest, rocking his hips against the berth, turning to nothing but a moaning puddle of mech.

"You got one more on there, Percy, think you can take it?" Perceptor moaned and reached down with a shaking hand, grasping the ball lightly before pressing it inside of his already stuffed port. Perceptor groaned and stroked his hands down his abdomen, staring down at it and groaning.

"Oooh… Look at that… Look at that…" The camera zoomed in on the slight swelling of Perceptor's abdomen and the smaller mech groaned and whimpered as he shifted to give a better view. "That feel good, Percy? Feel good to be stuffed full?"

"Uh-huh…" Perceptor nodded, whimpering as he pressed a hand on his chest and stroked down over his abdomen to stroke his own spike, gasping as his port shuddered and clenched as well as his abdomen.

The small mech whimpered and moved to his knees, reaching between his thighs and pressing his fingers to his port, rocking his hips and bearing down on his fingers frantically, overload mere inches from his grasp.

He whimpered and mewled, gasping as he arched and choked out a gasp, overloading hard before flopping back onto the berth.

"So, Percy, you want to keep those in some more?" The young mech whimpered and nodded. "Well come here and I'll give you something else to play with." Perceptor whimpered and rolled onto his pedes, gasping and almost buckling when he brought his legs together, pressing his hands to the area just above his spike cover as we walked over.

"Now feel this, Percy." The young mech reached off camera to take something, holding it up and feeling it over. It looked to be a small metal ball, smaller than the young mech's fist. He shook it and there was a metallic ringing inside and Percy shuddered.

"That's nice, isn't it? You know where you could put these?" Perceptor nodded and slowly slid back onto the berth, whimpering as he laid back and spread his legs. There was a soft click and the small mech's aft port was revealed, leaking slightly and even smaller than his interfacing port.

"I got twenty of these. You think you can take them?"

Perceptor shuddered and nodded, mewling needily as he pressed the first ball in, gasping and moaning as he rocked his hips, delicious vibrations and friction driving him quickly towards the brink of overload.

He managed to get five of the metal balls in before he plummeted over the edge, gasping and mewling as he writhed on the berth. Once he recovered he grabbed another ball, then another, soon thirteen were in before another overload struck, Perceptor panting and moving to kneel on the berth, legs spread as he worked another ball into his tight port.

"Damn, Percy… Damn…" The voice hissed as Perceptor finally managed to fit the last ball inside of him, panting and moaning so loudly he could have been on the verge of screaming.

"How do you feel, Percy?"

"Mmmh… F-full…" Perceptor whimpered, bracing himself against a nearby wall, legs spread and ports dripping liberally, lubricants and transfluid running down his thighs. Perceptor's hips were moving forward and back like a pendulum and he had to bite the knuckles of a hand to keep from screaming and sobbing.

"Do you like that? Like being stuffed so full you think you're going to rip in half?"

Perceptor sobbed and nodded, clawing at the wall as a particularly sharp jerk of his hips made his insides sing with pleasure.

"You want me to leave you like this? Do you want to walk around like this until I tell you to pull them out?"

Perceptor whined and nodded, looking at the person holding the camera desperately.

"Close your ports, Percy…" The ports snapped shut and pelvic armor slid back into place, Perceptor turning shakily to face the camera, spreading his legs and moaning as he laid back on the berth, pleasure coursing through him erratically.

"You can recharge now… But don't go overloading too many times on me…" Perceptor whimpered and nodded, optics dimming as the camera cut out zoomed in on his pleasure-hazed faceplate.

The screens dissolved into static once more before all previous feeds were restored. Red Alert slumped in his chair, rubbing his optics as Inferno shifted uncomfortably.

"So… Red… Come up with anything else from that?" Inferno asked after a moment.

"Yes, actually." Red Alert began writing on his datapad. "I've deduced that whoever it is, Perceptor trusts them enough to do as they say, so its either a close friend who is holding the camera or an officer." Red Alert frowned. "This seemed a little bit more like a recording for a purpose, not to make a porn video or anything… Something to be studied later…"

"A scientist?"

"Maybe… But I could also be medical staff."

"Medical"

"We need to start talking to some mechs… Start clearing some things up…"


	5. Chapter 5

The Recording 5

Silence.

The kind of silence that humans said you could cut with a knife. Not many of the Ark's non-organic inhabitants had understood the phrase until now. As the video feeds returned to normal some of the noise returned but the mechs didn't dare move, unless some unholy wrath came crashing down on their helms.

There was a crash from the doorway of the Rec. Room and mechs turned suddenly to see Perceptor standing in the doorway, trembling with a shattered energon cube on the floor in front of him, his outstretched hand shaking as his mouth gaped.

"Perceptor!" Wheeljack turned, shocked that the young mech had seen the video. Perceptor let out an enraged shriek before racing out of the Rec. Room and down the hall.

"Perceptor, wait!" Wheeljack raced after the mech, trying to catch him. "Slow down! Perceptor!"

The young mech shoved past mechs in the hallway, coolant tears streaming down his face as he ran. He didn't know where he was going but he didn't care.

The entrance of the Ark loomed up and Perceptor sprinted towards it, ignoring the wolf-whistles of Brawn and Cliffjumper as he ran.

Only to collide with something tall and solid that let out a yelp upon impact. Perceptor rebounded off of the tall frame only for strong arms to grab him about the shoulder and back, pulling him upright.

"Perceptor?" A cultured voice asked and Perceptor looked up, letting out a harsh sob of anguish. "Perceptor, what's wrong?"

Perceptor pressed his face to Tracks' hood, curling his hands into fists near his face as he cried. Tracks, unsure of what to do, merely wrapped his arms around the smaller mech even more firmly, stroking the crest of the mech's helm soothingly.

"There, there… It will all be fine… Shh…"

"Perceptor, I'm so-" Tracks looked up to see Wheeljack staring at him as he held Perceptor, the other mech looking unsure for a moment before a slight frown furrowed the area between his optics slightly. The engineer stepped forward and placed a hand on Perceptor's shoulder. "Perceptor, come on."

Perceptor shrugged his co-worker away and shook his helm.

"Go away, Wheeljack. Just go away…" Perceptor whimpered, clinging to Tracks more firmly.

Wheeljack felt as if someone had stabbed him in the spark, looking up at Tracks then down at Perceptor in confusion and hurt.

"Perceptor, I-"

"I think you should go." Tracks stated firmly, glaring at the engineer. Wheeljack returned the glare for a moment before turning on his heel and stomping off. Perceptor relaxed visibly in Tracks' arms after that and the corvette had to lean down and scoop the smaller mech into his arms. "Careful there, Perceptor… Come on, let's get you to your quarters…"

Tracks hoisted Perceptor into his arms bridal style, walking through the halls of the Ark towards Perceptor's Lab and quarters. He received quite a few cat-calls and wolf-whistles as he passed mechs in the hall, Perceptor flinching and curling closer and closer each time. At one point Sunstreaker even asked if he could have Perceptor once the corvette was done. Tracks pinned the Lamborghini with a deathly cold glare before continuing on his way.

"Think you can punch in your code?" Tracks asked and Perceptor shook his head. "Do you want me to do it?" Perceptor nodded.

"Five eight six two." Perceptor murmured and Tracks obediently pressed the numbers, the door whooshing open. Perceptor's quarters were much like his lab, cluttered and dimly lit but cozy in its own way. Tracks smiled, noting that Perceptor had a small pile of blankets on his berth. Apparently the young mech had not outgrown all of his sparkling tendencies yet… Tracks lowered the smaller mech onto his berth, covering him with a blanket and stroking his helm crest once more before turning and walking out of the room, making sure to lock it behind him.

From the shadows further down the hall, Wheeljack glared at the other mech before returning to his lab, optics narrowed as he seethed inwardly.

PWP

"Someone hacked Teletraan…" Red Alert whispered surprisingly calmly. Optimus looked at the unstable mech levelly as Red Alert pressed his palms together. "I don't think you realize the seriousness of the situation, Prime." Red Alert's horns began sparking and Optimus leaned back slightly as Red Alert let out an ear splitting scream.

"SOMEONE HACKED MY BABY!"

"Well if someone hacked Teletraan-1 then wouldn't you be able to pick up a trail?" Optimus asked but Red Alert wasn't hearing him.

"AND NOT ONLY DID THEY HACK MY PRIDE AND JOY, THEY USED HIM TO POST PORN ALL ACROSS THE ARK! IT'S INSULTING AND DEGRADING AND WHEN I FIND WHOEVER IS DOING THIS I WILL USE THEIR PARTS TO MAKE A NEW CAMERA AND PUTIT JUST OUTSIDE THE SECURITY ROOM AS A WARNING TO ALL THE OTHERS!"

"Red, calm down." Optimus tried to offer a placating smile. "Red, maybe Prowl should take over for a while? Why don't you go back to the security room and help Teletraan recover?"

Red Alert straightened and was suddenly the picture of calm.

"I am calm. Why wouldn't I be calm?" He asked with a slightly demonic grin. "Why would I not be CALM, Optimus?"

"Well… I…" Optimus saw the hole he would be digging for himself and decided to just avoid it altogether. "Why don't we look over your notes on your investigation?"

Red Alert was considerably more calm when discussing the investigation going on. He pulled out his datapad and began reading over it.

"So far what we can determine definitely is that the camera is one of high quality, most likely Cybertronian in construction. Also we can tell that wherever the videos take place it is not in Perceptor's quarters."

"And you can determine this, how?" Optimus asked with a raised eyebrow ridge. Red Alert gave his commander a deadpanned stare.

"Have you seen Perceptor's lab? Imagine what his quarters look like." Optimus thought this over and nodded.

"Continue?"

"Perceptor always seems highly intoxicated, though we have ruled out high grade."

"How?" Optimus asked, curious. Red Alert pulled up two separate images from the videos and zoomed in on the upper right hand corners. There, displayed in pale, barely discernable glyphs, was the date and time.

"These days were never any of the days that high grade was actively passed out. They are also exactly a month apart from each other, though the times are different. These two are from our time on earth, but are very old… It's only correct to assume there are more…"

"More?" Optimus was shocked.

"I don't think the intention of these videos were for public viewing… The person recording them is not making Perceptor be flamboyant or do particularly outrageous things… There's a certain degree of trust between the two…" Red Alert straightened and shook himself. "I am trying to remove the vocode over the voice, but it is very difficult. I might require a voice analysis of certain mechs."

"Which ones?" Optimus asked wearily, rubbing the area between his optics in a comically human gesture.

"Medical, science and officers." Red Alert stated calmly. "I will also be interrogating quite a few mechs."

"Isn't that Smokescreen's speciality."

"With all due respect, Optimus, I would prefer if I did the interrogations. Mechs tend to clam up around Smokescreen and he takes longer with them. That's a waste of time and time is not something we have."

"What do you mean we don't have time?" Optimus looked up, unsure as to whether he wanted to hear the answer.

"There have been… mumblings… Especially around the front-liners… I think it would be best if this investigation be finished and quickly.

Optimus sighed and nodded.

"Do what you have to, Red…"

"Thank you, sir." Red Alert turned to leave.

"Red?"

"Yes sir?" Red turned his helm slightly to look at Optimus.

"Just be careful, Red…" The older mech sighed. Red Alert paused before walking back into the office and around Optimus' desk. He stroked the older mech's antennae before placing a gentle kiss on one.

"I will, Optimus… See you tonight."

"Tonight, Red…" Optimus mumbled as Red Alert swept out of the room, calling out as the door closed.

"Inferno! Get your lazy aft over here right now!"

"But Red, I-"

"NOW!"

Optimus had to smile at that. Red Alert was paranoid, far too professional to be sane and a demanding mech, but that was why he loved him…

Now if only he could get Red Alert to be a little bit more adventuresome in the berth…


	6. Chapter 6

The Recording 6

"Wheeljack?" Red Alert knocked on the door, which opened quickly, revealing a seething Wheeljack tearing into the internals of one of his projects before haphazardly rewiring and replacing parts.

"Did we come at a bad time?" Red Alert asked, looking slightly worried that whatever it was Wheeljack was working on would spontaneously combust.

"No, it's fine." Wheeljack shoved the project away and looked up, obviously annoyed. "What is it, Red?"

"You've seen the videos of Perceptor that have recently aired." It wasn't a question.

"Yeah, I have, and whatever sick fuck who is posting those things had better not show his faceplate or I will rearrange it."

"Really?" Red Alert tersely flicked a switch on his datapad, turning it on and taking out his stylus. "So you feel protective of Perceptor?"

"Of course!" Wheeljack looked slightly surprised. "He's my friend."

"Just a friend?" Red Alert asked, quirking an optic ridge. Wheeljack looked at Red Alert then at Inferno before pointing a finger at them.

"You think I posted those videos?"

"You are a suspect, Wheeljack. Half of the Ark is suspect at this point." Red Alert stated tersely. "And you are also a mech who could manipulate Teletraan-1 well enough to post those videos and not leave a trail."

Wheeljack stared at them for a moment before stepping forward, pointing a finger in Red's face.

"Now listen here, Red. I would never do that to Percy. I love him and whoever is posting those videos is just sick."

Red Alert was silent for a moment before he spoke again.

"You seem tense."

"Since when did you care?" Wheeljack snapped, turning away.

"You're hiding something." Wheeljack stiffened, his small wings flating slightly behind his back. "If you tell me I won't be forced to pull rank and go through every file, piece of security footage and project that you have featured in recently."

"It's nothing." Wheeljack murmured. Red Alert narrowed his optics.

"Does it have to do with Perceptor?" Flinch. Ah-ha…

"If you must know, Perceptor has been avoiding me and has taken to clinging to Tracks whenever he decides to leave his lab or quarters." Wheeljack snapped, glaring at the other mechs. "Now is that all or can you leave me alone now?"

There was a knock on the open doorframe and Inferno and Red Alert turned to see Skyfire sheepishly smiling at them from the doorway.

"I'm sorry if I came at a bad time but Perceptor wouldn't let me in…"

"What is it, Skyfire?" Wheeljack asked slightly wearily, all fight suddenly leaving him.

"Well, my camera hasn't been working all that well lately… I took it with me when we went on that expedition to Peru and dropped it. It had been working fine but today it's been glitching on me…"

Red Alert's optics flared at he looked over the camera as it passed between servos. It was a battered, ancient old thing of fairly good quality but obviously issued, not bought.

"How long have you had that camera, Skyfire?"

"This old thing?" Skyfire looked over the camera. "Um… Since the Academy, I think… People in the sciences and medical fields were required to document everything so we were always given cameras. You remember that, Wheeljack, don't you?"

"Yeah, though mine didn't last the first year, I kept getting new ones until they told me to start buying my own." Wheeljack looked around. "Speaking of which, where is my camera?"

"Skyfire, might I have a look at your camera?" Red Alert held out his servo. Skyfire smiled good-naturedly (obliviously) and handed over the camera. Red Alert turned the camera over and flicked open the compartment housing the video-card.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I am in charge of investigating the recent slandering of Perceptor's good name. Until further notice you are still a suspect."

"But, my research!"

"Will be unharmed. I shall return the reader to you as soon as I have gone through it." Red Alert raised an optic ridge. "You don't have anything to hide, after all?"

"Of course not!" Skyfire frowned. "You think so little of me?"

"You were a Decepticon once." Red Alert snipped, to which Skyfire had not response. "Thank you both for your cooperation, Wheeljack, Skyfire…"

Red Alert turned to leave, Inferno following doggedly.

"Red, what the pits are you doing?"

"Investigating, Inferno."

"You're lookin' to get quite a few mechs mad at you."

"And some mechs are looking for brig time, then." Red Alert stated calmly. "Let's go set up the monitors for analysis."

"Not more porn…" Inferno groaned, already feeling his spike start to ache at the thought.

"No, you'll be anazlying the contents of this." Red Alert tossed the data chip to Inferno, who carefully caught it and sighed with relief. "I'll be analyzing the videos, something seems suspicious about them…"

"Everything is suspicious to you, Red Alert."

"I am unsure as to whether the mech on screen is Perceptor. We might require his assistance."

"You're not…"

"I am."

"You're sick, Red, very, very sick."

"You know what I intend to do, that makes you equally sick."

Inferno pouted and rubbed his optics, looking to the heavens for assistance.

"Primus save our souls." He murmured before following Red down the hall.

**Accessing Private Files…**

**Encryption Code 2412335…**

**Analyzing…**

**Accepted…**

**Red Alert's Private Log: Entry 846**

So far in the aforementioned investigation of the recent "Porn Spree" across the Ark I have noted several consistencies:

Our culprit never comes on screen.

His voice is vocoded over.

His height is consistent with that of the average mech (determined from camera height and angle).

He uses some form of narcotic in order to placate Perceptor as well as give him temporary memory glitches.

Perceptor trusts him, which narrows our list considerably to about a quarter of the Ark.

The videos are methodic and follow a pattern so far, leaving me to believe our culprit is very organized and controlling.

Also, in my investigation, I have come to the conclusion that not one, but two mechs are at fault. These videos do not appear to be meant for public viewing, more like personal research. So whoever is posting the videos is unlikely to be the same mech as the mech recording them.

Further investigation is required, especially in the area of Perceptor himself. It is obvious to me that he is hiding something and I intend to find out what it is…

"Red." Red Alert glanced up, saving his work before shutting down the datapad.

"What is it, Prime."

"Come to bed, Red." Optimus came over and wrapped his arms around the smaller mech's shoulders, leaning over to kiss his sensory horns. Red Alert relaxed instantly when Optimus began gently sucking on them, licking along their length as he massaged the smaller mech's shoulders.

"Hmm… I need to work."

"Everyone else is asleep, I'm sure you can afford to sleep as well."

"But Teletraan-1-"

"Is fine… I highly doubt your culprit will attempt anything so soon… You can prepare for another attack tomorrow." Red glanced at his chronometer.

"Technically it is tomorrow."

"After you've rested, Red." Red Alert sighed and stood, unwilling to fight anymore. He was exhausted…

Optimus smiled as he followed his mate to their quarters, keying the door open as Red leaned against him heavily. His mate had a habit of exhausting himself far more than Optimus himself did.

Red Alert fairly fell onto the berth, sprawled across it greedily. Optimus smiled and managed to pry the smaller mech up and over, only to have Red Alert flung across his own chassis, recharging like the deactivated already.

"What am I going to do with you, Red?" Optimus smiled before laying his helm back and drifting off into recharge.


	7. Chapter 7

The Recording 7

The main Meeting Room was filled with mechs seated around the table, some looking annoyed others looking a mixture of curious and bored. The group consisted of Wheeljack, Ratchet, Skyfire, Ironhide, Jazz, Prowl, Optimus, Inferno, Tracks, Smokescreen, Mirage, Blaster, Bumblebee and Red Alert. Red Alert stood beside Optimus at the head of the meeting table, looking around at the other mechs with a calculating gaze.

"I have called you all here for a specific purpose." Red Alert shifted his datapads in a parody of a nervous gesture. Optimus said it made him seem more… normal… "I have analyzed the recent videos that have been seen across the Ark. I have managed to de-vocode the voice on the videos to an extent where I would be able to do a simple comparison using this and a recorder." Red Alert held up a small mouthpiece. It looked like a small metal speaker with two long metal hooks on the ends. The Security Director looked around, eyes lighting upon Optimus.

"Prime, if you would." Optimus stood and took the vocoder, removing his facial mask and hooking the item onto his mouth and jaw. Red Alert held out a datapad, pressing a small icon on the screen. "Now if you would please read this phrase from the video clip."

Optimus glanced at his mate before speaking slowly and clearly.

"Hey, Percy, say hi to the camera…" Optimus' voice sounded oddly distorted but not nearly as heavily electrical as the voice on the videos.

"All very fascinating, Red Alert, but what does this have to do with your reason for gathering all of us here?" Ratchet groused, folding his arms over his windshield.

"You shall each read a line from this datapad while wearing the vocoder. Your voices shall be analyzed for matches."

"And if we refused?" Red Alert's optics flicked to Ironhide before he returned to preparing his datapad.

"Then you would be interrogated and closely monitored for suspicious behavior." Red Alert turned to the room. "Who volunteers first?"

There was a pause before Tracks stood and stepped forward.

"I have nothing to hide." He stated with a shrug, taking the vocoder and the datapad. "So, Percy, you think you could take that spike in you?" He removed the vocoder and passed it to Mirage.

PWP

"Perceptor?" Tracks knocked on Perceptor's lab door, listening at the door. There was a pause before the door opened and Perceptor looked up at him wearily. His expression lightened somewhat and he managed a wane smile.

"Hello, Tracks."

"You look tired." Tracks stated, walking inside when Perceptor stepped aside. "Have you recharged?"

"Can't… I'm just so tense." Perceptor sighed returning to a project he had been working on.

Tracks sighed and walked up behind Perceptor, carefully placing his hands on tense shoulders.

"Red Alert called a meeting today… For his suspects." Perceptor stiffened and returned to his work. "I was called in as well…"

Perceptor turned suddenly, staring up at the taller mech. He opened his mouth to say something but Tracks quickly leaned down, cutting off his protests.

"Mph!" Perceptor's hands raised to Tracks' helm, only to pause as a smooth, slick glossa pressed into his mouth. Slender arms curled around the taller mech's bulky shoulders and a sleek thigh hiked up to Tracks' hip.

Tracks gently pulled back, cupping Perceptor's cheek and pecking his lips gently.

"I didn't post those videos or record you… This isn't just about that…"

"Funny, I thought mechs like you would only use mechs like me for pity-'facing."

"If you want to tell yourself that… Feel free…" Tracks murmured, hoisting the smaller mech onto the work bench. "But I won't lie to you… I want more out of this than just 'facing…"

Perceptor stared at the other mech before leaning in to kiss him, clinging to him tightly.

"Ahem." The two mechs pulled away, Tracks taking a quick step away from the smaller mech as Perceptor slid off the table, adjusting his armor nervously as Red Alert gave them both a wry look. "I require to speak with Perceptor… In private."

Tracks nodded and gave Perceptor a quick wave, which Perceptor returned with a wiggle of his own fingers.

"You and Tracks seem to be getting close." Red Alert murmured wryly.

"What do you need, Red Alert?" Perceptor asked with a sigh.

"I require some questions of the personal nature… Prime and Inferno convinced me to ask you in private rather than at the meeting earlier." Red Alert pulled out his datapad and a stylus. "When was the last time you interfaced with a mech?"

Perceptor stared at the other mech before letting out a sigh.

"I don't know… Before the Academy." Perceptor moved back to his work bench.

"You were active before the Academy?"

Perceptor stiffened. Bingo.

"So, Perceptor… You seem less surprised about the content of the videos and more about the fact that mechs are seeing them publicly… You also seem like the kind of mech with something to hide in this sort of case."

"Shouldn't you be finding who is posting those videos on Teletraan?" Perceptor snapped and Red Alert quirked an optic ridge at the loss of temper.

There was silence for a moment before Perceptor sighed and tilted his helm back.

"Before the Academy I worked as a stripper over in downtown Icaon… Most of the upper-class mechs would go there for their kicks… The pay was good and I was pretty enough that most mechs wouldn't mind facing me…" Perceptor rubbed his optics wearily. "To keep the mechs loose and ready to 'face the club owners would give us small doses of Byte… Just enough to keep us wet and wanton…" Perceptor turned to Red and sighed again. "I admit I became addicted… To the Byte, to the 'facing… I've been seeing Smokescreen about my… problem… And so far it has been working pretty well."

Red Alert raised an optic ridge.

"Smokescreen gives you Byte and toys to 'face with?"

"No… He's been trying to cure my addiction, not worsen it." Perceptor gave Red a raised optic ridge. "You think Smokescreen is behind this." It was a statement.

"Half the Ark is still suspect… Though I do think that Smokescreen is an accessory to this crime." Red Alert murmured. "Now, Perceptor, forgive my bluntness, but I require a look at your port."

"My what?" Perceptor stepped back.

"For purely scientific reasons, I assure you." Red Alert stated as he placed his datapad down and stepped towards Perceptor. "Now you can lie down and open your panel or I can get an order from Prime and have Ratchet do it, by which time every mech in the Ark will know about it."

"Is that a threat?" Perceptor asked, optics narrowing.

"Only a suggestion." Red Alert stated calmly.

Perceptor paused before sighing and hopping onto his work bench, clicking open his panel and tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling.

"Happy?"

Red Alert peered at the small, tight port, reaching down and pressing two fingers inside. Perceptor gasped and gritted his denta together, trying to will the aching pleasure away.

"Your port still retains its elasticity." Red Alert stated.

"I don't recall using it for nearly two millennia."

"You don't recall using it. You don't recall those videos either… Whoever is manipulating you is doing it in such a way that you don't notice the stretch or any discomforts."

"I see…" Perceptor murmured, pursing his lips.

"You said you were addicted to Byte… Were there any side effects other than the aphrodisiac?"

"The side effects of Byte are different for different mechs… I'm afraid that any narcotics I take glitch my memory chips."

Red Alert paused and nodded, walking out of the room slowly.

As he was leaving Red's comm. Link beeped and the Security Director answered.

"Inferno, what have you found?"

"A voice match and a new video is starting to come up."

"Put a trace, I want the outlet that video is coming from and I want it yesterday!" Red began racing down the halls, just as the video started playing.


	8. Chapter 8

The Recording 8

Onboard the Nemesis Frenzy was walking through the corridors, minding his own business when he heard the sound of static coming from inside the Monitor Room. The sound was quickly followed by Skywarp calling out:

"Hey, guys! Get yer afts in here! The Autobots are sending us more porn!"

The red cassetticon quickly sped up his pace, making it into the control room before the rush, grabbing an available chair and staring with wide eyes up at the screen.

"You know this certainly can't be healthy for us." Thundercracker murmured.

"Yeah, I've recently been finding certain Auto-pricks attractive." Motormaster rumbled as he came in with his fellow Stunticons, the group looking at the camera's intently.

"You know, I wonder why Megatron hasn't contacted Prime about this yet." Frenzy pondered aloud.

There was a rare contemplative silence for a few moments before Breakdown let out a shriek of horror.

"My processors did not need that mental image!"

PWP

"You thirsty, Percy?" Perceptor looked up from his most recent project, smiling at the camera as he shook his helm.

"You and that camera." He murmured, accepting the cube of energon. If one looked closely one could see that it was a slightly off shade of lavender, but Perceptor merely took the cube and sipped it, returning to looking over a circuit board.

There was a few more minutes of this before a visible change started to take place. Perceptor's face flushed with pale pink energon. He began shifting uncomfortably, letting out small sounds of discomfort every so often as he moved.

"You okay, Percy?"

"Y-yes… I…" Perceptor bit his lower lip, energon beading from where the thin derma was punctured. "Ah!" Perceptor gasped and pressed his hand to his lip, stumbling backwards to land on the berth, his legs spread wide as he whimpered and tried to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, I'm just… Mph!" Perceptor's hips twitched and he pressed his hands to the berth, panting more heavily now as he dug his fingers into the gel of the berth's surface.

"Here, Percy… Take this…" The camera shifted and barely showed Perceptor leaning forward to take something from the camera holder's hand, helm falling back strutlessly as he moaned and swallowed, hands bracing him on the berth as lubricant began to seep out of the seams of his interfacing panel.

Perceptor doubled over on the edge of the berth, gasping and arching as he clawed at his own armor, hands scraping at his joints and seams, seemingly trying to relieve some invisible itch.

"You want more, Percy?" The young mech whimpered and nodded, mouth falling open as he looked up at the camera. The camera shifted and there was a glimpse of color – it looked red in the dim camera light – before Perceptor was tilting his helm back, moaning as he swallowed something.

His spinal struts seemed to give out and he was sprawled across the berth within moments, vents heaving and panting as he cried out desperately. He groaned and removed his shoulder armor, his chest armor quickly falling away as well as he shoved the thick metal away. Soon his leg armor was being picked off and cast aside, the small mech shoving his hands down to his interfacing panel as the armor clicked open, revealing his port and spike.

"Primus… Percy, you should see yourself…" The smaller mech whimpered and arched, thrusting two fingers inside his port, whimpering as he tossed his helm from side to side, coolant beading across his overheated frame.

"Fuck…" Perceptor hissed, delving his fingers deeper before arching his hips at such an angle that he could press against that certain sensitive cluster in his port.

"Language, Percy…" Perceptor bit his lip as he arched and whimpered, hips fairly vibrating with pleasure as he neared overload, body arching and writhing as there was a light click and Perceptor's chestplates split, revealing a small, pulsing blue orb.

The small mech reached into his chest and raked his fingers down his spark chamber, arching and crying out as the harsh stimulation sent him careening over the edge…

PWP

Red Alert frowned at the latest footage.

Three videos, all the same length apart and recorded with the same camera… They played out sexual fantasies, but also seemed to have some form of purpose…

Perceptor had mentioned that he had been having therapy with Smokescreen… Time to pay the Datsun a visit.

Red Alert shoved away from his desk, grabbing his datapad and walking down the hall towards the other mech's office. He knocked on the door and there was a muffled "come in" and the door slid open.

Smokescreen was frowning at a small datapad in his hand, looking up at Red Alert briefly.

"What's an eight letter word for a mass murder with a "d" in the middle?" He asked and Red Alert noted that the other mech had a human crossword puzzle pulled up on the datapad.

"Homicide." Red Alert stated wryly as he sat down across from Smokescreen on the desk. Formalities made the Datsun uncomfortable, and the Lamborghini hated the overstuffed lounge that was in front of the psychologist's desk. "I talked to Perceptor earlier."

"Really?" Smokescreen wrote down an answer in his illegible scrawl and Red Alert rolled his optics.

"You should be interested, he talked about you."

"Hmmm?" Smokescreen's optics brightened momentarily before dimming again. Red Alert contained a smirk.

"Do you continue your therapy sessions with him?"

"On occasion… Once every two weeks or so, just to check up on him. He's made excellent progress lately."

"With his addiction?" Red Alert asked.

"More than just that, Red Alert." Smokescreen placed his datapad down and looked up at the other mech. "Perceptor was raised to be a pleasure bot… With that sort of label comes a whole myriad of mental problems… Perceptor might seem confident and bright, but he suffers from severely low self esteem…" Smokescreen rubbed his optics with a sigh. "When he was a working mech… Slag happened. I'm not at liberty to tell you that, you'd have to ask his consent, but I can tell you that it left him actually believing that he was nothing but a two-credit whore."

"Did any mech on the Ark know about this?"

"If I were to hazard a guess I would say Mirage, Tracks, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe would have suspicions. When Perceptor worked at the club he went by the name of Vista and his armor was slightly different, less developed."

Smokescreen pulled out a particular datapad, removing the various locks and encryptions on it before turning it on. He paged through a few windows before coming to an image of a slender, young looking mech with a highly polished body and familiar wide, blue optics and full lips. He looked slightly lost, confused, with an archaic smile on his face that looked as fake as cheap imitation crystal.

"This was Perceptor?" Red murmured thoughtfully.

"Long time ago… Looks young, doesn't he? I tried finding his records a while back but I couldn't even dig up his creation file… As far as Cybertron is concerned, he never even existed."

Red Alert frowned at this before looking at his datapad.

"Shortly after our landing on earth you reported that your private patient files were hacked into."

"During a Decepticon raid… I thought that they had taken some information."

"Isn't it odd… It was shortly after Skyfire had joined us as well." Smokescreen raised an optic ridge.

"Skyfire did this?"

"He helped… which files were hacked?"

"All of the officers and science team." Smokescreen murmured.

"We know he hasn't passed information, but he might have been using the information for his own personal gain… His voice is the closest we can get to the one on camera, though we haven't found any incriminating evidence on his own, we've even searched the deleted and moved files."

"Then how can you be sure it's him?"

"He's our best guess at this point, Smokescreen." Red Alert sighed, rubbing his optics. "I don't need to tell you what you can hear plainly through the Ark… Mechs are getting ideas. This needs to stop."

Smokescreen nodded and sighed, rubbing his optics.

"Do you want to talk to him?"

"We didn't catch who was posting the videos, but if we get their source we might be able to track down who is posting them."

Smokescreen nodded, sighing as he rubbed his optics.

"Is there anything I can do to help?" He asked in an uncharacteristically concerned way.

"Not at the moment… I'll comm. you if I need to."


	9. Chapter 9

The Recording 9

"So… Skyfire… You enjoy your research?" Red Alert's optics fixed on the shuttle as the larger mech sat in his lab, carefully pinning minute butterfly specimens on a shadow-box. The enormous mech made quite a sight, with two magnifying lenses held in front of his left optic and a pair of tweezers held in his free hand as he impaled a tiny blue butterfly on the board.

"Yes, it is such a relief and joy for me to gain knowledge… I find it relaxing."

"Really?" Red Alert murmured. "What do you think of Perceptor?"

Skyfire paused and removed his magnifying glasses, thoughtfully looking at Red.

"He's cute… Intelligent, that's for sure… A bit shy and introverted, but that might just be his age."

"You're aware of his age?" Red Alert asked with surprise.

"He told me his age… I attempted to court him, he refused, when I asked why he said it was because he was underaged… That was the end of it. We're simply good friends."

"With benefits." Red Alert added in a "matter-of-fact" tone.

"Pardon?" Skyfire asked slowly, unsure of this turn of events.

"You don't need to lie to me, Skyfire… Your voice is an almost perfect match to the one on the recordings… Your camera wielded evidence of deleted files that matched the dates that the recordings were taken and you arrived just before Smokescreen's patient files were hacked." Red Alert folded his arms over his chest. "All I need is to have a look at your computer and I bet I could find the incriminating evidence."

"This is ridiculous, Red Alert." Skyfire calmly sighed. "I wouldn't do that to Perceptor. And I think that you are simply biased because I was once a Decepticon."

"How do I know that you still aren't?"

"I wear the Autobot badge now, Red Alert. I respect that and so should you."

"You disregarded the Decepticon badge easily."

"You think that was easy?" Skyfire snapped, in a rare show of temper. "I gave up everything! I gave up the mech I loved, I gave up a chance to have a normal life back on Cybertron! I gave up my very past! All for the Autobots!"

There was silence before Skyfire calmed and shook his helm.

"I didn't record those videos or post them. I didn't hack Smokescreen's files either, I don't have that kind of computer skills for any of that."

"All of the pieces, fit!" Red Alert snapped. "I even caught a bit of red on the tape! It had to have been you!"

"If you are so sure, check my terminal." Skyfire nodded to the aforementioned computer terminal and Red Alert glared at him, being careful not to keep his back to the larger mech as he logged onto the terminal.

He scrolled through the files for a good fifteen minutes, pulling up a few and even going so far as to go through the trash and purging bins.

Nothing.

"Satisfied?" Skyfire asked with a quirked eyebrow ridge.

"But… It made sense…" Blue sparks flicked across Red Alert's helm and he rubbed his optics. "It made sense, how could it be wrong?"

"Red Alert?" A shower of blue poured off of Red Alert's helm and his optics dimmed, Skyfire reaching down and catching the smaller mech. "Red Alert!" But the mech was shaking and twitching, going into emergency shut-down. "Frag!" Skyfire reached up to his comm. link. "Ratchet, Red Alert's fried something, I'm taking him to Medbay."

"Red did what?"

PWP

Optimus had been forced to come and take his mate out of Medbay once Ratchet had forcefully input a string of code that would cause the mech to relax and rest. After a royal chewing out by Ratchet and receiving orders to keep Red Alert away from the monitor room for at least a week – and to stay with him if that was what he needed to do – Optimus managed to get his mate out of Medbay.

Placing his drowsy mate on their berth, Optimus sighed as he stroked Red Alert's horns soothingly.

"You really know how to get Ratchet's wires in a knot, don't you, Red?" Optimus chuckled when his mate pouted up at him.

"If y'ould jist hold still… I'ould shmack all'o y'." The Security Director slurred, waving a hand around strutlessly as he allowed himself to be held.

"At the moment, you aren't in a position to "shmack" anyone." Optimus rolled over onto his side, draping an arm over the smaller mech's waist and purring in his audials softly. "And Ratchet has given me full permission to keep you in this berth for an entire week…"

"Frag y', Hatchet." Red Alert's helm flopped back and Optimus chuckled, removing his mask in order to lean down and kiss the smaller mech. Red Alert returned the kiss sloppily, not having complete control over his body due to the sedative-like code. He did, however, managed to grope Optimus' interfacing panel, the larger mech grunting and purring even more loudly at that.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Optimus rolled so that he was straddling his smaller mate, hoisting slender thighs around his waist as he nuzzled and nipped Red Alert's chest and neck.

"Mmmhmm…" Red keened softly as one of Optimus' hands slid down to his aft, the larger mech's warm mouth covering and sucking on bright red pelvic plating until it snapped open.

"Missed you, Red…" Optimus murmured, dipping his tongue into the small port and reaching up to stroke Red's spike lightly.

"Mmm… Come back… evr'y nigh'…" Red murmured dazedly as he pressed his hips into Optimus' mouth.

"Your body is here… But you're always so preoccupied…" Optimus murmured, pulling away from the smaller mech's port to kiss him, Red Alert moaning at the taste of his own lubricants mingling with Optimus'.

"'M here now…" Red purred, curling his arms around Optimus' shoulders.

The larger mech smirked and reached down to guide his spike into its familiar sheath, moaning as he watched Red Alert's sparkplates open slowly.

PWP

"Cliffjumper? You alright?" Huffer asked as he looked at his companion, who was curled up on a corner of his berth, as far away from the wall that the sleeping area was pressed up against as possible.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'll never make fun of bonded mechs again…" Cliffjumper whimpered with a slightly crazed look in his optics. Huffer blinked before he heard it.

A loud thud followed by a half-shrieked moan and more rhythmic thuds.

"Optimus!" Red Alert's unmistakable scream filtered through the wall and Huffer blinked, looking from the wall to Cliffjumper and back again.

"Wow… How long have they been going at it?"

"Five hours…" Cliffjumper whimpered, covering his audials. "Make it stop, Huffer." He whined loudly, offlining his optics and beginning to rock gently.

Huffer paused, thought over the consequences of such actions, then – in a moment of rare wise decision making – stepped out of the room and went back to the Rec. Room. Maybe he could bunk somewhere else for the night…


	10. Chapter 10

The Recording 10

Word travelled quickly through the Autobot base after Skyfire's interrogation. This made Perceptor slightly nervous. It didn't help that Tracks would be out on patrol all evening and Perceptor had forgotten to refuel (again). So when his aching tanks made a sound of protest at not being filled, Perceptor sighed and stood from his seat in front of his workbench, carefully opening the door to his lab and looking around.

No one… Perceptor smiled slightly to himself. Maybe he could go to the Rec. Room, get his energon and get back to his lab without anyone noticing. Tip-toeing down the hall, Perceptor was halfway to the Rec. Room when a hand firmly grabbed his arm. Perceptor yelped and grabbed the wrist of the hand before throwing the body over his shoulder, unaware of who it was who had surprised him.

Wheeljack groaned as he lay on the ground, staring up at Perceptor.

"Where did you learn that?" Wheeljack grumbled as he stood, dusting himself off.

"I took Metalliko night classes at the Academy." Perceptor huffed, trying to calm his sputtering spark. "You scared me, Wheeljack."

"Didn't mean to, but everytime I try to talk to you either you run away or Tracks drives me off."

"I don't want to talk to you, Wheeljack. I don't want to talk to anyone." Perceptor sighed, turning to leave. Wheeljack grabbed the smaller mech's wrist and hauled him back, Perceptor glaring up at him as they stood chest to chest.

"We need to talk." The larger mech stated firmly and Perceptor paused before attempting to dislodge his hand, failing as he struggled.

"I don't want to."

"Perceptor." The smaller mech paused. He knew that tone. It was Wheeljack's serious tone… Like when he was scolding the Dinobots or arguing with Ratchet. Perceptor looked away and made a sour face.

"Fine." Wheeljack released him and Perceptor folded his arms over his chest. "What do you want to talk about?"

"You know what, Perceptor." Wheeljack sighed. "You said you would bond with me when you were of age. You're almost there and then this happens? I'm your betrothed, Perceptor, and I see all of this evidence that is telling me that you have been unfaithful!"

"As if you haven't." Perceptor snapped, looking up at Wheeljack with a glare. "You know I don't love you. Our betrothal is nothing but higher ups politicking around and being petty."

"I love you, Perceptor! Even if our betrothal is nothing to them it means everything to me!" Wheeljack looked down at the smaller mech, cupping his face gently. Perceptor jerked his helm away and looked up at Wheeljack levelly.

"I don't love you, Wheeljack… And whatever it is you feel for me, it isn't returned." Perceptor whispered, walking down the hall. "I'm sorry for leading you on like this."

"Is that what you do with every mech who says they love you?" Wheeljack whispered, staring at Perceptor's back. The smaller mech flinched and shook his head. "Because if you're just toying with Tracks… If you lead him on… No one is going to trust you with love."

"I'm not leading Tracks on…" Perceptor whispered. "I'm not sure if I love him… But I know that there is something there."

"What do you see in him?" Wheeljack sighed, looking away. Perceptor paused before shaking his head.

"He makes me feel worthwhile…"

Perceptor didn't look back as he completed his journey to the Rec. Room, retrieving his cube of energon.

Trudging back to his quarters, Perceptor sighed as he laid down on his berth, not noticing that his door hadn't locked. He was halfway into recharge when the door opened nearly silently, the small mech pausing before shrugging off the sound and allowing himself to drift off.

A pair of glowing blue optics were fixed on Perceptor as strong yet slender hands hovering over Perceptor's body, a pale red light blinking near the mech's uniquely shaped helm. The hands pulled back and slipped into a subspace, dropping a flat disc into the energon resting beside Perceptor's berth, the powder quickly dissolving. The shadowy mech quickly hid himself amongst the clutter and projects, watching and waiting for the show that would inevitably start…

PWP

"I missed something…" Red Alert hissed, looking over his datapad as he lay ontop of his recharging mate. He was going through his previous notes, frowning when that yielded nothing. He sighed and pulled up the sound recordings he had made of the perpetrator's voice.

"So, Percy, you think you could take that spike in you?" Red Alert frowned before replaying the clip, listening with offlined optics. Something sounded off… He listened again, and again, finally pinpoint it. A barely heard click hidden beneath the voice modulator. He sat up and began furiously typing away at the pad, sitting with his legs crossed in a bowl shape on his mate's abdomen as he hunched over the datapad. Optimus grunted and shifted slightly, beginning to rouse from his recharge.

"So, Percy, you think you could take that spike in you?"

"Almost, got it…" Red Alert hissed. Finally he gave a loud "ah-ha" and played the clip over.

The voice that filtered over the datapad had him blinking and staring at it incredulously.

"Optimus!" Red Alert kicked his mate's shin-guards, causing Optimus to grunt and sit bolt upright.

"I'm up!" He sleepily exclaimed, looking around before noting Red Alert sitting between his legs. "Red?" He glanced at his chronometer. "Red, it's one in the morning." He groaned, moving to lie back down.

"Optimus! Listen to this and tell me who it is!" Red Alert shoved Optimus back upright and the larger mech sighed, taking the datapad. Red pressed the small playback button and the voice filtered through the small speakers to them.

Optimus blinked before frowning and looking over at Red Alert.

"Sunstreaker?" Red Alert asked curiously and Optimus shook his helm.

"Mirage."


End file.
